Got some work 
done in the garden today.  One of the 
people that does yard work is bringing over the leaves he is gathering from his 
customers and dropping them off for Carla to use.
Today he 
brought some that were in bags, so we had to drag them down to one of her 
gardens in the northwest corner.  The 
rest are loose and we are moving them with wheelbarrows.
Carla 
couldn’t be happier.  It will help the 
soil, a lot, and give it both nutrients and body.  There is so much sand it just doesn’t retain 
the nutrients as well from year to year and despite rotating crops the soil is 
depleted.
---------------------------
I am giving 
you permission to share this post, as long as you also include this paragraph 
that it is copyrighted and it is not to be used in or attached to other 
publications without my written permission.
Copyright 
November 2, 2017 Art Labrousse
When I first 
started with the City as a Reserve, they gave me a uniform and badge and one of 
the Reserves loaned me his two inch Colt to carry when I rode until I had my own 
weapon.
That was the 
extent of my introduction into the Reserves.  
I can’t remember if I was sworn in or not – I imagine I was, just don’t 
remember it.
I was a bit 
timid going into public, by myself, in the uniform; after all I knew nothing 
about the laws or protocol and could find myself in serious trouble.  When I mentioned that to the Reserve Captain, 
as he loaned me the gun, he asked “you, do know how to shoot, don’t you?”
I said, ‘yes, 
of course.’
That was 
enough for him, and the department.
I carried 
that 2 inch for a few weeks.
I had 
contacted Norman, my Brother-in-law, to see if I could borrow one of his guns, 
he not only did that for me but sent me the leather belt and holsters for the 
gun and handcuffs to go with them.
It was a .38 
Smith and Wesson; it had been sent to the Police Department along with the 
leather.  The officers were very 
impressed with the quality of the weapon – Norman is also a gunsmith and the 
action on that gun was smoother than any in the department (or so I was 
told.)
It was the 
weapon he used in competition and when he was named to the California Governor’s 
top Twenty Police Officers in pistol competition.  Not an easy thing to pull off. 
I got my 
training by riding with the regular officers.  I didn’t think to ask for manuals on the laws 
so I could study up a bit and no one suggested I do so – I just rode, watched 
and listened.
And that was 
the same for every other Reserve Officer, at the time.
Our duties 
were to assist the department anyway we could.  
Most of our ‘official’ duties were security for different organizations 
that were having large meetings and football games.  
We also did 
traffic control during the parades – no training other than don’t let anyone 
through until after the parade is over and then keep the intersections clear of 
traffic as best you can.
At times we 
might be asked to stand by at a crime scene to provide security and to record 
anyone that came and went from the scene.
When we were 
“on duty” we had the full authority of any Police Officer; there was no 
difference, if we gave an order then whoever we were giving it to was expected 
to obey or be arrested.  I was awfully 
careful about doing that.
I usually 
worked at the store until closing and then about a half hour after so we could 
do the closing paperwork.  My intent was 
to ride the last part of Swing Shift and the first part of Grave yard, at least 
until after bar closing at 0230, a couple or three times a week.
I figured the 
security and traffic control was the price I had to pay to ride along with the 
regular officers on patrol.
Some officers 
didn’t mind having a reserve with them.  
It helped to relieve boredom during the quiet times, and many became 
friends.  Others would just as soon not 
have a reserve riding, but would grudgingly do so if no one else was 
available.  You learned to pick and 
choose your nights, it was always better to be welcomed than tolerated.
One night I 
was coming in with the Swing Shift as their shift was over and I approached the 
Graveyard Sergeant and asked if I could ride on his shift – a prerequisite to 
ride was to get permission from the Sergeant or PFC.
Sarge looked 
me up and down and said, ‘NO!’  As he 
walked away he said ‘I would rather have no one on patrol than to have a 
reserve.’
That was 
quite a shock and very embarrassing.  I 
was brand new and all the officers of both shifts heard him.
Of course, 
all the officers of both shifts knew his feelings, so it wasn’t quite as bad as 
I felt – as if his comments had been directed at me. 
John, the PFC 
I had originally talked to and was directed to join the Reserves, was his PFC 
and came over to me and said, we will talk in a few minutes – since I had been 
picked up at my home by a swing shift officer I thought I was going to have to 
walk home, but John told me he would give me a ride.
He explained 
to me that the Sarge had come to The Dalles from another city about 16 years 
before.  While at the other city he had a 
reserve riding with him when they got a call of a fight in one of the local 
bars.
Sarge arrived 
at the scene and went into the bar, thinking the reserve was there as his back 
up – only to find he was facing several angry people fighting each other and 
ended up getting severely beaten before the rest of the officers arrived.
The reserve 
turned his gear into the department later, saying “I decided right then and 
there as we arrived at that fight I didn’t want to be a Police Officer.”
It was 
probably a good thing, and even better that he never saw Sarge again.
I don’t know 
if that was actually true or not, but it made for a good story and reason for 
his detesting of reserves.
Sarge had 
been in charge of Graveyard shift from the moment he was hired.  He never worked another shift and he ran the 
shift his way, which was often different from the other two Patrol 
Sergeants.
Sarge brooked 
no sass and it was clear what he wanted out of his officers.  His main order was to make sure every single 
business and school was checked out during the shift, at least once.
He expected 
his officers to be in the alley’s and not out on the street except for bar 
closing when he wanted his officers checking the streets around the bars.
He wanted 
them there to discourage both fighting, which often occurred, and those that had 
too much to drink giving them second thoughts about driving home.
Not all 
officers cared for the ‘security’ assignments – they are boring - and would work 
traffic whenever possible – especially Driving Under the Influence offenders 
that they wanted off the street.
While a quiet 
shift, for the most part, when a call came into the office it was usually of 
major consequences.  Family disturbances 
were the calls most often received; the husband would come out of the bar and go 
home; when he arrived at home he and his wife would end up in arguments and we 
would get a call from her, or the neighbors.  
Those calls were always dangerous.
Burglaries 
did occur during the shift.  Sometimes 
they were called in, were on an alarm that notified the department or quite 
often discovered by the officer assigned to that area.
If an officer 
didn’t discover a burglary before the business owner arrived in the morning, 
unless everyone was too busy with calls, he would hear about it from Sarge – he 
was expected to be alert and find the break in – even if he couldn’t find the 
suspect committing it at the time. 
John was his 
PFC for the most part.  On occasion he 
would switch with another PFC to another shift, but he preferred working 
Graveyard shift and working for Sarge.
John told me 
that on nights he was in charge of the shift, I was welcomed to ride.  I did so, often, but since the Sarge’s days 
off were Sunday and Monday mornings, it wasn’t easy since I had obligations at 
my church.
After 
watching the other Patrol sergeants and listening to the troops – many of which 
really didn’t want to work with him, and especially the Graveyard shift, I 
decided if I joined the department I would want to work with Sarge.
I made it a 
point to always greet him and at least be cordial with him.  I liked him.
Things have 
changed, The City Police and the Sheriff’s Office now have a Reserve Academy to 
train reserves in the basics and keep both them and the department out of 
trouble.
Being a 
Reserve was satisfying and I decided that police work was something I really did 
want to do.
Carla wasn’t 
so sure.  It meant taking a cut in pay – 
and not a small one - and she knew my father had had words with officers in the 
past – one time beating a ticket, by reportedly saying he hadn’t gone as fast as 
the officers said, and he didn’t trust their judgement.  Supposedly the judge agreed with him and 
found him not guilty.
Her concern 
was what would I do if something like that happened to me? – not a bad question, 
really.  
However, she 
didn’t push the point and I applied the next time the department had 
openings.
I don’t 
remember how many of us applied for the job, but there were several.
We took a 
written test.  Those of us that passed 
then had to take a physical test – one that was done along with firemen 
applicants.
We arrived at 
Amaton field, a field next to the high school, to perform the tests.
In the center 
of the field propped up with ropes standing upright was a fireman’s ladder, 20 
feet high.  I don’t remember all the 
other things that we were required to do, but I will never forget that one.
I don’t like 
heights.  Never have.  No police officer candidate had ever been 
asked to perform that feat before – yet, I knew that if I didn’t do it, I would 
be washed out.
We were to 
climb it, then go over the top and back down the other side.  I have to admit of all the things I had to do 
as an officer through the years, that was one of the most terrifying.  
But I did it, 
don’t ask me how, but I did.
A few days 
later I received a call to go and see the Doctor for a physical.  It was Doctor John, at the time the mayor and 
County Medical Examiner.  He passed me 
except for his concern about my eye sight – the chief said it would be fine, I 
wouldn’t have been accepted under today’s standards – so I was offered and 
accepted the job as a Probationary Police Officer.
I tendered my 
resignation at Safeway’s, giving them two week’s notice.  The District Manager came to me and said that 
he felt I was making a mistake and indicating a position was opening up for an 
Assistant Manager soon and I would be considered – within a month, Madras, one 
of the stores in Central Oregon, had an opening for an Assistant Manager.
I had worked 
in it before and liked the manager.  He 
and I got along well.  But, I had made my 
decision.
Obviously a 
new officer can’t request an assignment, but I was pleased to be told that I 
would be assigned to Graveyard.
I walked into 
the station at a little before 2330.  
Sarge was at the counter.
He looked at 
me, and said, “I heard you might be coming over.”
Then went 
into his office.
To be 
continued:
Copyright 
November 2, 2017 Art Labrousse
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Ephesians 1:16-18  
KJV  “Cease not to give thanks for you, making mention of you in my 
prayers;
17 That the God of our 
Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give unto you the spirit of wisdom 
and revelation in the knowledge of him:
18 The eyes of your 
understanding being enlightened; that ye may know what is the hope of his 
calling, and what the riches of the glory of his inheritance in the 
saints,”
While this 
was addressed to the Ephesians, by Paul, how wonderful it is to hear that 
someone is praying for me as Paul did for the Church at Ephesus.
Part of our 
duties as Christians is to pray for others, to pray they will grow and will 
allow themselves to be used by Him.
AND 
especially for those that do not yet know of His amazing grace:  “The eyes of your understanding being enlightened; that ye 
may know what is the hope of his calling, and what the riches of the glory of 
his inheritance in the saints,”
Later, Art 
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